My son Stephen and his family live in Crofton, Md., and I recently received a letter from Jim Lighthizer, one of his neighbors there. I have never met the gentlemen, but I am a longtime member of his organization. Jim is the president of the non-profit Civil War Trust, an organization committed to saving the nation’s endangered Civil War battlefields.

His letter was about Perryville, Ky., one of the war’s most threatened battlefields. In 1996, we visited the site on our cross-country trip to visit our son who lives on the west coast.

Perryville was the place where Chicopee’s Arthur MacArthur and the 24th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry first saw action. I sent along a donation to help preserve the battlefield.

Brig. Gen. Philip Sheridan commanded the regiment at Perryville in the heart of Kentucky on Oct. 8, 1862. The Confederates launched a fierce attack, but the inexperienced brigade held and, finally, drove them back.

Lt. MacArthur - the “Boy Adjutant” - was cited for “gallantry in action.” It was the beginning of Gen. Philip Sheridan’s esteem for the 18-year-old soldier.

After Perryville the division went into camp at Mill Creek, a short distance from Nashville, Tenn.

Sheridan believed that battles are won on the drill field, not on the battlefield. The results of careful training were repaid a hundredfold on the battlefield.

Beginning on New Year’s eve and lasting three days into 1863 was the battle called Murfreesboro by the North and Stones River by the South.

Sheridan’s division held the right of the Union Line. The carnage was merciless with the regiment losing 40 percent of its strength. Every mounted officer of the 24th Wisconsin Volunteers was out of action except for the young adjutant.

In effect, MacArthur became its commander. He was everywhere, rallying the ranks, reorganizing the companies and holding the line. That night when Sheridan rode up, he patted the young lad on the shoulder and, grinning, noticed that the 24th was still in its original rifle pits facing the other way.

Sheridan said, “Arthur, my boy, congratulations you have not lost a foot of ground.”

MacArthur was ill with typhoid fever and missed the next encounter, at Chickamauga in northern Georgia. His unit was badly mauled.

The young soldier quickly recovered, rejoining the regiment in time for the next engagement on Missionary Ridge in Chattanooga, Tenn.

On Nov. 25, 1863, Lt. Arthur MacArthur, the 18-year-old adjutant of the 24th Wisconsin Volunteers, reported only 150 men fit for duty. By 11 a.m., the 24th Wisconsin was in place.

Hiding by a thin belt of trees, they waited for the command to attack. After forming into two lines, they were ordered to lie down. The distance from where they lay to the base of Missionary Ridge was about three-fourths of a mile.

Kenneth Ray Young, writing in his 1994 book “The General’s General: The Life and Times of Arthur MacArthur,” observes, “For almost the only time in the Civil War, nearly every man in both armies was about to see a battle.”

Surrounded by mountains, Chattanooga was a gigantic amphitheater. The low-lying areas had been denuded of trees, giving everyone an excellent view. No battle of the Civil War provided so many observers with such good seats.

MacArthur’s unit was located almost exactly in the center of the 2-mile Union line. Above them the ridge rose abruptly to almost 600 feet.

The Confederate position looked impregnable with its barricaded rifle pits at the base of the ridge, a second line of barricades about half way up the side of the ridge, and, finally, at the very top, Gen. Braxton Bragg had stationed 10,000 men and 50 siege guns.

Noon passed, then 1 and 2 p.m., followed by the beat of drums and the sound of bugles as the Army of the Cumberland charged on a dead run toward the rifle pits three quarters of a mile away. Sheridan’s 1st Brigade and the 24th Wisconsin were the first to hit the Confederate rifle pits at the foot of Missionary Ridge.

On the top of the ridge, rebel soldiers watched helplessly as the rout developed; they could not fire for fear of hitting their own troops. The blue coats in a mile-long dash had captured the rifle pits.

Exhausted, their respite was brief, however, for they soon discovered they were in an exposed position. The 24th faced a lethal barrage from the Confederates on Missionary Ridge, and the just-won trenches became death traps as the rebels blazed away with deadly results.

What happened next has been debated and written about by historians and scholars ever since.

It was the genesis of one of the most famous feuds of the Civil War. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant and one of his ablest commanders, Gen. George Henry Thomas, would never speak socially again.

What is certain, is that in the next hour-and-26-minutes, Aurelia Belcher MacArthur’s boy would win the Medal of Honor.

The men of the 24th would not retreat, although it appeared suicidal. The only answer was to attack!

Up the ridge, Capt. Edwin Parsons, of Company K, jumped out of the pits with MacArthur right on his heels. Their commanding officer, Grant, would be furious. He believed for the rest of his life that Thomas had ordered the charge.

Author Young quotes Sheridan as saying, “I didn’t order them up, but we’re going to take the ridge.” He then galloped off to lead his division.

Young describes the conduct of the young adjutant: “Fast on his feet, ‘Little Mac’ was soon ahead of the entire Union Army carrying the colors of the 24th in the race to the top.”

Canisters exploded around MacArthur as he charged up the slope. A shell burst knocked him to the ground. With only a minor scratch, he was back on his feet, waving the flag high as the men of the 24th raced behind him.

“Little Mac” cleared the Confederate barricades. With a pistol in one hand and the unit’s flag in the other, he was the first blue coat atop the ridge.

Today in Chattanooga, a monument marks the spot where Chicopee’s Arthur MacArthur planted the 24th Wisconsin’s battle flag. There, in front of Braxton Bragg’s command post, the 18-year old lieutenant forever became the “Hero of Missionary Ridge.”

Stephen R. Jendrysik, a retired history teacher, is Chicopee city historian, a member of the Chicopee Historical Society’s board of directors and president of the Edward Bellamy Memorial Association.